Coffee Troubles
by Blue Obsidian Butterfly
Summary: Castle wanted to know if Beckett could tell the difference between her normal coffee and decaf but no-one messes with Beckett's coffee.


**Disclaimer: No matter how many wishes I make, I still don't own Castle.**

**Coffee Troubles**

He should have known. After all, Kate Beckett is a dangerous woman. A dangerous, extraordinary and incredibly sexy woman who was addicted to caffeine and he took it away from her. How could the boys have let him do this? Probably because they were either smart enough to stay away or too scared. Probably the latter. That is why famous writer Richard Castle was currently hiding in Captain Gates' office from a certain detective who was, at the moment, incredibly pissed.

20 minutes earlier...

Ruggedly handsome writer Richard Castle walked into the precinct with the customary two cups of coffee, a sight which everyone was used to. That is why, apart from a few hellos in his direction, no-one took any notice. However, there was something different about one of those cups, namely the one intended for detective Beckett, who was currently occupied with a rather large pile of paperwork. He set the cup down on her desk and received a nod of acknowledgement and a small smile, the one that she reserved just for him. She then took a sip and paused, a shift occurred in the seemingly random patterns of the precinct. Kate Beckett never paused while drinking her coffee, especially when it was only her second cup of the day. Something was wrong, everyone seemed to sense it but no-one knew why.

"Castle" she said as a way of getting the writers attention on her and away from his phone.

"Yes" the writer replied. Oh, she knew he thought but he kept his face carefully blank, hoping that all the years he played poker would pay off.

"Why does my coffee taste strange?" She asked slowly. She sounded calm, too calm. Yes, that sounded cliché but it was true. The detective looked strangely calm considering that 'someone' had messed with her coffee. It was almost deadly. The writer gulped, realising that now was the time to be worried and possibly run for his life.

"Your coffee is exactly the same as it always is." Almost he added in his head but thought better of it than to say it aloud. Provoking her is never a good idea and as fun as it is there is a point of no return in which you should run for your life.

The detective took another sip and gasped, her eyes opening as big as saucers. This was not good Castle thought as he sat as far back as his chair would allow.

"Castle" she said while trying not to spit out the substance that he had called coffee.

"Is this DECAF!" she asked, shaking with rage. At this point Castle had stopped breathing. People were shouting at him to run which was great in theory however, his legs were glued to the spot, refusing to move. He was a dead man and sure of it. Why did he even do it in the first place? Because he wanted to see if his favourite detective (well not his favourite right now considering she was about to murder him) could tell the difference between her regular coffee and decaf. Apparently she could. Then castle remembered why he had the feeling that he had forgotten something on the ride to the precinct. He forgot the back-up cup of coffee that he was planning to get in case this exact situation occurred. Well a lot of good that did him. Castle then slapped himself in the forehead for being such an idiot and immediately regretted it when his head started to hurt. Oh well, he thought, it's not as bad as what Beckett will do. That thought was enough to get his legs working again and he sprang out of his chair, surprising her enough to get past and run for the elevator. Beckett, never one to give up, bolted for the elevator, heels slamming against the ground (how does she do it?) but the doors closed just as she got there. Beckett then hit the doors, cursed and paused just long enough to see which floor the elevator had stopped at before running to the stairs. With or without caffeine, she was dangerous.

That's why Castle is currently hiding under the desk in Gates' office but he had to get out before the captain came back from her meeting. Only then, when Castle was contemplating his miserable future, did it occur to him that he could call and have them deliver a coffee to Beckett. Castle slapped himself in the forehead again and winced. He was going to have a bruise tomorrow but at least he was alive. Wait until Lanie hears about this he thought as he dialled the number.

Famous and currently bruised writer Richard Castle sat on the cold metal table in the morgue (thankfully alive) while Lanie yelled at him. It turns out that telling Lanie about his little 'adventure' was not such a good idea. He should have known better. Then again, he did just give Beckett decaf so he probably didn't. Sitting under a desk for two hours was not fun and also not a good idea. And, to top it all off, Beckett had kicked him out of the precinct. Well, the boys had anyway. The last thing they needed was an angry Beckett. Yep, defiantly not Castle's best day. Oh well, there's always tomorrow. Would Beckett notice if there was no sugar in her coffee?


End file.
